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by Savageseraph



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Parent/Child Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 04:08:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5524850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savageseraph/pseuds/Savageseraph





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**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elvewen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elvewen/gifts).



“You know I oppose this.” Thranduil folded his arms across his chest as he frowned at his son. If Legolas sensed his disapproval, he didn’t respond to it. Instead, he kept filling the pack he would carry with him to Rivendell. “There are others from this realm better qualified to answer Elrond’s summons.”

“Do you honestly think to dissuade me from going?” The boy didn’t even pause in his packing.

Thranduil wanted to point out he didn’t have to use persuasion. If he ordered the guard to detain his son, to throw him in the cells until the retinue had left for Rivendell, he could. “You are little more than a child yourself. Impulsive and petulant.”

“I _am_ going, Father.”

“Because you have such a vast store of wisdom to share?” The boy was too full of himself. Too certain of his worth to the world.

“Because it is my duty.” Legolas did turn to face him then. “ _Our_ duty.”

Thranduil arched an eyebrow. So the boy thought he could council his king on duty, did he? “Maybe you prefer the Halfelven’s halls to those of your home?”

“I go because it is the right thing to do. Even the Men and Dwarves can see that. They can see how important this is to all Middle Earth.” Legolas sighed, shook his head. “Why can’t you?”

Thranduil growled softly, advanced on his son. “ _Never_ make the mistake of thinking me a fool.”

Legolas took a step back, his eyes widening in surprise. For the first time, his arrogance was shaken.

“Do you think I don’t know what draws you to those halls?” Just because he didn’t travel to Rivendell with his son much now that Legolas was grown, the boy was a fool indeed if he thought Thranduil didn’t have eyes there.

“I don’t know what you—“

Thranduil cut off the words with an angry snarl. “I know you bend for Elrond’s mongrel.”

Legolas’s chin came up as he squared his shoulders. “He is no mongrel. He is Isildur’s heir. And heir to the throne of Gondor.”

“And you are a prince of this realm.” He caught Legolas’s jaw between his fingers. “And I am due at least the same consideration as you would give to some Man.” 

Before Legolas could protest or argue, Thranduil gripped his shoulders to pull him close and brought his mouth down on the boy’s. He felt his son’s body tense. Thranduil licked at Legolas’s lips, which stayed stubbornly closed as the boy closed his eyes. The reflex of a child who thought that if he couldn’t see something, it wouldn’t see him.

Thranduil tangled his fingers in Legolas’s pale gold hair and tugged his head back hard. When he gasped in surprise, Thranduil pressed his advantage, slid his tongue into his mouth. Their tongues dueled, teeth scraped across lips. Legolas’s hands came to rest on Thranduil’s hips, and he felt the boy’s body trembling.

Thranduil lingered over the kiss before he pulled back slightly. Legolas was flushed, and he could feel the boy’s heart hammering in the frantic pulsebeat in his neck. His eyes were half open. His lips parted in a soft moan. Thranduil’s gaze was fixed on that mouth, his body responding, hardening, as he imagined sliding into that hot, eager mouth. He groaned. It had been too long--far too long--since he’d put the boy through his paces. Maybe if he rode him more often, the boy wouldn’t debase himself by offering himself to Men. 

“On your knees.” It was the tone he’d used to command armies, and he was gratified by how quickly the boy closed his eyes and knelt. Those eyes stayed closed as Thranduil parted his robes, steadied his cock, and brushed the head across Legolas’s lips, which parted without any prompting.

_Too long._ Thranduil pressed forward. The simple, powerful pleasure of watching his cock slip into the boy’s mouth drew a deep groan from him. His grip on Legolas’s hair tightened as his cock twitched. He bit down on his lip, tasted his own blood. _Not yet._ The pain helped him focus, helped him hold on. He stayed still until he controlled his pleasure, which was fortunate because the boy tilted his head, swallowed as he sheathed himself fully in Legolas’s slick heat.

Shudders ran through Legolas, and he moaned, long and low. The vibrations sent ripples of need coursing through him. He pressed his foot between Legolas’s legs, encouraged them to part, and when he pressed his foot against his son’s crotch, he could feel the hardness trapped beneath his breeches.

The boy needed this. He always had, and Thranduil had been neglecting him. It was not an error he intended to repeat. 

Thranduil rocked his hips, his shallow thrusts slow. Careful. He told himself it was out of consideration for the boy, but he wanted to savor this. The sucking and swallowing, the sight of those impertinent lips stretched around his cock. There was an accomplished artfulness Thranduil didn’t remember, and he frowned as his thrusts grew harder. How had his son became such a practiced cocksucker?

“Do you let him do this?” He ignored the boy’s soft sounds of protest as his thrusts grew more brutal and gripped Legolas’s hair harder to hold him still. “Do you let that Ranger fuck your mouth? Is that how you’ve grown so practiced?”

When he had the breath to, the boy made ragged cries. Tears pooled at the corners of his eyes. Despite his discomfort, Thranduil never felt the boy’s erection fade. Thranduil pulled back suddenly and left the boy gasping for breath. Legolas’s eyes blinked open, and they were dark and unfocused. Like he was drunk on too much wine. 

“Get up.” Thranduil wondered how much the boy would remember as he watched him rise unsteadily to his feet. 

Legolas licked his lips and went to his desk. He unlaced his breeches, shoved them over his hips, and spread his legs wide as he bent over the desk. 

Thranduil’s hands curled into fists. He wished he had more time, time enough to redden that impertinent ass. To turn the boy over his knee like he did when Legolas was young. Next time. Next time he’d fuck the boy properly. He checked the nighstand, surprised and pleased to find the vial of oil he’d insisted the boy always keep on hand.

He drizzled the oil over Legolas’s skin, watched it pool, then spread to trickle down the boy’s cleft. That alone was enough to make Legolas whimper, arch his back. 

“I’ve left you to your own devices for too long.” He pressed two fingers into the boy. “I’ll make sure to keep you in proper form once you return from Rivendell.”

Legolas cried out. A shudder ran through him. “Ada.”

He watched his fingers as they thrust and stretched the boy. When he curled his fingers, Legolas’s body jerked as he cried out. _So much wasted time._ It wasn’t long until the boy was rocking back into his thrusts, his body begging for more. After he slipped in a third finger, the boy started to beg.

Thranduil laughed softly. The Ranger might not know patience or control. But Thranduil did. He wouldn’t indulge the boy. Spoil him. He kept Legolas pleading and squirming, screaming and bucking, as he brought him close to release over and over again. He kept him bringing him to the edge until the boy was too wrung out, too wrecked to do more than lift his hips and try to ride out what he was giving him.

_Now._ Thranduil pulled his fingers free and buried himself in the boy in one hard thrust. Legolas cried out, struggled without real focus or intent, and before the sound had faded, Thranduil started fucking him hard. Urgently. His control had its limits. It only took few hard thrusts for Legolas to come, and Thranduil rode his spent, pliant body until he found his own release.

When he’d caught his breath, Thranduil leaned over his son, murmured in his ear. “Go to Rivendell. But we both know that Man can’t give you what you want. What you crave.”

Legolas shook his head.

“You know I’m right.” Thranduil carded his fingers through Legolas’s sweaty hair. “And you know that what you need is here. At home.”


End file.
